


(I'm in Misery, Where You Can Seem) as old as your omens

by Dansmapropretete



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dansmapropretete/pseuds/Dansmapropretete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An intimate portrait of Barry and Iris' relationship. Slight AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I'm in Misery, Where You Can Seem) as old as your omens

No one ever schooled Iris in the art of comforting men. Or boys, for that matter. From the moment she stepped into this big world, she had been bold, brash, abrasive and had an edge to her that many men simply couldn't understand. Barry Allen, for a time, was the only exception to this rule.

He had run away again. He had been having a good couple of months, those last few of eleventh grade, keeping busy with friends, clubs and school work, Barry was doing well.

Then the summer slump hit as it did annually. In the summers, Barry felt constantly reminded of his parents, the blistering hot afternoons at the ballpark with his father, and evening backyard campfires with his mother. The West house was not, was not, was not his home. And every minute that he spent there was just another untruth being piled on top of the others. He saw an opportunity one Wednesday morning to venture back into his own reality, and he went for it, packing one bag, leaving no note.

It was around eight that same evening that Iris found him at the gates of the Central City Rebel's ballpark, his elbows placed casually on his knees.

"You were harder to find this time," she said, sauntering toward him. "I thought I was gonna have to enlist the Mystery Gang or something."

"Always trying to challenge you, Iris," Barry said, smugly. He hadn't even torn his eyes away from the sliver of the field he could see from where he sat.

"So that's what this whole day has been about? A little adventure in babysitting?" Iris huffed, pulling the hair off of her neck into a bun.

"Maybe."

"You know I had to get somebody to cover my shift at work?"

Barry said nothing.

She shrugged, the corners of her mouth turning down. "Great, have fun melting out here." She pivoted back off of the sidewalk and stood in the street.

"What are you doing?" Barry sprung up after her.

"What does it look like?"

"Iris, come on, this isn't funny."

"No, Bear. It's not. Nothing about this day has been fun or worth even thinking about again."

"It wasn't supposed to be," he admitted.

"Then how can you sit there like you were and laugh at me?"

"Jesus Christ, how have you managed to make this about you?"

"Because I don't understand why you keep doing this! You have a good thing going with us. My dad has taken you in, fed you, clothed you, loved you, been there for you just like a son, and me, I've--- Why do you keep doing this to us? Why do you keep leaving? Why don't you just stay gone if you're gonna go? I don't understand you. You're my best friend, but I don't understand you."

"Of course you don't! No one knows what I'm going through, Iris. Not you, not your dad, not anybody. The only---" he faltered. "The only people who understand what I," His throat closed up; hot tears spilled down his face, "The only people who understand what I've lost--- they're gone. They're just---" He couldn't bring himself to repeat the words again. Iris reached down in her backpack and retrieved a tissue, handing it to Barry. After his sobs subsided, she had this to say---

"I don't understand pain?" she asked, looking into his tear-stained face, a stern hand on his shoulder. "I don't understand helplessness? Or loneliness? Or fear?" Pain tinged her voice even thinking about her mother now.

"I'm---"

"It's fine," Iris dismissed, shutting down his attempted apology. "Let's just go home."

They had come home exhausted after their tearful confrontation in the street. They had attempted to power down in their respective rooms, but Barry was far too wound up. He found himself in Iris' room, which was smaller and more spartan in decoration, as she didn't spend much time in there, between work at the restaurant and sports and school. The windows, which were large and faced the backyard, were always left with the blinds up and the curtains drawn back.  
Iris lay on her stomach with her legs crossed one over the other, scrolling on her phone. He knew his presence came as no surprise to her.

"Tired," Barry groaned, his tension melting as he eased onto the mattress next to her. She made room.

"Yeah," Iris agreed. A few minutes later, satisfied with all she had sent and seen, she turned her phone off and rolled over him to set it on the nightstand. Her breasts pressed momentarily against Barry's arm, and he pretended to breathe for that brief period.

Then, slowly, the two of them converged, like slabs of ice along the northern Atlantic. Barry, in the crook of Iris's neck, her arm slid underneath him to wrap around his shoulders and sink her fingers into his hair. Barry shook, and soon Iris's neck and the pillow was wet. His face didn't come up from his place, and Iris was forced to hold back tears of her own.

 

Spring break. It hadn't been too long since they had seen each other last, but one would have assumed it had been ages, the way they came together.

"Iris!" He beamed, opening the door.

"Barry!"

They embraced tightly and all of Iris' oxygen supply was suddenly out of the room. Pulling away slowly, Iris was able to take in Barry's appearance.

Disheveled, no surprise, his hair sticking up in several places, his t-shirt smelled freshly-laundered, but also, so unmistakably Barry Allen. In his dorm, it was easy to pick out which side was his--- the unmade bed, with books strewn across the foot of it. The black, utilitarian backpack spilling open on the floor, next to a pair of worn-in shower shoes and a large blue towel.

"I cleaned up in anticipation of your visit," he stated with false pride.

Iris burst into a smile that stretched and burned her face.

After high school, Iris did a year at Central City Community College to receive her general education requirements. She had been saving up for school working steady jobs, and had applied to universities all over in the winter. It was on this particular weekend that she expected to hear back from her number one, UC Davis.

Barry, on the other hand, had won a full ride to Duke, on a pre-med track, and set off the moment he could, sporting the logo as went.

None of that mattered now. The late-night facetiming and long, drawn phone calls finally had amounted to this infallible 3D moment. Him and her. She and him. The inseparable childhood pair.

Barry had promised to fill this weekend with clubs and concerts in the Bull City, five-star restaurants, and hours lying on the emerald stretch of Duke Gardens by the bridge. And thus far, Iris had been danced, and tanned, and stuffed to her delight.

"Oh, my God, Dad," Iris exhaled, her nails digging into the back of Barry's wooden desk chair in which she sat. The news finally dropping into the pit of her stomach.

"I'm so proud of you, honey! Wait until I tell Singh. You know he graduated from Davis, him and his parents, class of . . . oh, I forget. Anyway, I have to get going, but when you get home, there'll be some sort of surprise waiting for you, I promise---"

"Dad, you don't have to---"

"Nope, I promise. Oh, and Iris, tell Barry. It'll make his day." He hung up abruptly. No sooner than he did, Barry came slumping through the door, but Iris scarcely acknowledged him.

"Hey," he said brightly, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey," she replied. That was how she tried to harden herself, by matching the energy in the room. If Iris was trying to keep from crying, or showing any emotion for that matter, she'd first examine everyone else's mood, and then throw it back into the ether. Most people were too self-involved to pick up on it, but then again . . .

"What is it?" Barry asked, his brows knitting.

Iris spun out from the desk and sat ramrod straight in her chair to look at him. "I got into UC Davis."

"That's good. Not surprising, but . . . what's wrong?" His reaction was a little underwhelming, but then again, hers had been, too.

"Nothing," she replied tentatively, her eyes searching his unreadable face. Barry's face had grown unreadable, she had noted. She stood, stooping and came out from under his lofted bed. "It's what I wanted."

"And it's three-thousand miles away," he added.

"Two-thousand."

"I wasn't talking about Central City," he replied, chewing his bottom lip. "Are you going?"

"Yeah. I think I have to."

"What does that mean 'have to?'" He was getting combative now, kicking his shoes off.

"It means--- I don't know."

"Sure, you do. You have your mind made up already. What does it mean?"

"It means I have a responsibility to myself, Barry---" He punctuated his frustration by opening and slamming his drawers to find a t-shirt, looking at her pointedly. "To do the right thing for me, to chase something that I want."

"Then why don't you seem happy about it?" he demanded, yanking his shirt over his head.

"Because I want everything!" She exclaimed. "I want everything, and I can't have it all, so I have to choose."

"Who's asking you to?" Barry insisted,

"Who needs to?" she shot back. "Everybody knows how this goes, I either throw myself into college now in California or I lose everything that I want, the whole future that I see for myself."

"You sound--- you know what? Never mind."

"No, what?"

"You sound like a kid, right now, Iris. You sound stupid. Tell me I'm wrong."

"How can you fucking say that to me?"

"It's true, you know it is. You can get whatever you're willing to work for, you've just never wanted it bad enough." Barry fingers reached for his belt buckle and he undid his trousers without warning, dropping them effortlessly to the floor. Iris, out of shock, grew reticent.

Barry knew, he had seen how much work she had put in to get into school now. He had been right beside her on the 3am cram-sessions, late night coffee runs. He had worked out the knots in her back from the hours she had spent hunched over her books, and celebrated her victories alongside her. To say that she hadn't worked hard, and to somehow imply that he had worked harder was an impossible blow to her pride. "You don't mean that," was all she could say in a very small voice.

"You don't know what I mean," Barry countered, nearly chuckling. He shuffled into a pair of running shorts.

A pause hung in the air, the curve of the question mark, the breadth between her and him.

"You're right. I don't. I guess I never did, because I thought you were the one who was always pushing me towards this." Her voice was on a solid, forceful, even, level again.

"Towards what?" His voice had finally reached that tone, past disinterest and casual frustration to actual, palpable anger. It didn't feel as satisfying as Iris had anticipated.

"To a future away from you!"

As soon as she'd said the words, she had immediately regretted them. They weren't talking about college anymore, maybe they hadn't been this entire time. But it was honest, the statement. Barry had put so much distance between himself and her. If Iris didn't care so much, she wouldn't have noticed, and maybe she would have chalked it up to Barry's general flightiness. But this was something else. The admission, she knew, would be the most damaging because of it's honesty. She knew what would come next, and her knees grew weaker for it.

"I don't even know what to say to that," he conceded.

"You never do."

"I can't talk about this now. I'm gone for a run. We'll talk about this later."

Iris' face fell, and her shoulders sagged. Lost. She didn't try to stop him on his way out. She just let the door slam closed behind him.

 

And they didn't see each other for a long time after that.

Barry took a research position that summer and didn't come home at all, didn't call for Iris' birthday in August. Iris started summer school at Davis, Barry's words still ringing in her mind every now and again. Her scholarship allowed for her to stay on campus with all of the amenities.

In the fall, she started seeing her summer semester criminology TA, a young man by the name of Eddie Thawne. Smart, handsome, practical in the most basic sense of the word. He had followed her out on the last day of classes and had allotted the two-week summer vacation before fall classes for Iris to consider it. They went out for the first time on the first Monday before class, eager, the two of them. When he'd asked her what she wanted to study, she said journalism, though her heart beat for criminal justice. When he asked about her family back east, she abruptly would change the subject.

From an educated family with money, Eddie knew how to handle himself in situations with a level of grace that one just couldn't buy or seek out scholarships for. She had put Barry out of her mind by the time fall break had rolled around, but it was then that they were forced to see one another again.

For fall break, she had left Eddie back in California, saying she looked forward to doing the holidays at his parent's place, crossing her fingers and toes the whole while.

Iris lugged her stuff up to the door following behind Joe. No sooner than she walked through the door was Barry going out of his way to help her.

"Here, I got it," he offered.

"Thanks," she mumbled, reluctantly acquiescing.

He sat the bags down and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"Just hug already," Joe gesticulated. "You know you haven't seen each other in nearly a year." He stumbled into the kitchen to put on some cider for them all.

Barry opened himself up for an embrace that she couldn't refuse, sweeping her arms around his shoulders, while his encircled her waist. Her fingers went to the nape of his neck, altogether forgetting and remembering the time and the place. They were just seventeen again, lying in her bed, tangled together like ropes, deep breathing. The inhale first, then the exhale. Her fingers cupped the base of his skull, the short, cropped hairs there and skidded down to the knobs just at the beginnings of his spine. She was in midair just long enough to feel welcomed back, then all too soon, she felt herself set back on her feet.

"Long time," Barry said, taking a wide step back.

"Yeah," Iris agreed, doing the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for sticking with it! I really enjoyed writing this. Please leave reviews whether you hated it, loved it, or it stirred any amount of indifference in you and you wanted to know why I bothered posting it at all.


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